


War of Witches

by AidanChase



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Marauders era, Mrs. Potter is as sassy as her son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1685801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidanChase/pseuds/AidanChase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer of 1976, middle of the first wizarding war.</p><p>In an effort to maintain normalcy, pureblooded wizarding family MacDougal hosts their annual garden party. However, they weren't expecting a showdown between Walburga Black and Mrs. Potter to mar the event.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War of Witches

**Author's Note:**

> It's not really marauders, but it's marauders-era. And it's about Sirius Black. Sort of. I had a lot of fun doing the research for the time period, and what was happening in the wizarding war, and what sorts of pureblood families were still around. Some of the characters are made up, most are canon. Enjoy!

James was upside down on the couch, bare feet draped over the back, and a page of the Daily Prophet's Sports section in his hands. He kept adjusting his glasses with one free hand, but their tendency to slip over his forehead wasn't enough to make him sit up straight. Neither were Sirius's attempts for attention by tickling his exposed soles with the end of a quill. He only gently kicked at his friend and continued his absorbed reading about the effect the war was having on the start of the new Quidditch season.

His mother walking through the parlor, footsteps echoing like thunder in a valley, however, was enough to make him sit up.

"Where are you off to, mum?" he asked with a touch of awe in his voice.

"Just a small garden party," she said with a tight smile and adjusted her brilliantly red dress robes. "Your father is busy at the hospital and someone ought to represent our family. Seeing as how you're rather under-dressed," she teased.

"I could be ready in minutes," he protested and set his paper aside.

Sirius leaned against the couch like a leopard on a tree branch. "And leave me here alone? You'll come back and find your furniture permanently stuck to the walls."

"No, you wouldn't," James laughed lightly.

"I'm not responsible for my actions when I'm left to entertain myself," he said solemnly. "Besides, is that any way to treat a guest?"

"You're not a guest; you're family," Mrs. Potter answered with a cheery smile. "And don't you worry, James, it'll all be stuffy old folk with their debates on new legislation and the latest gossip. That's not for you to worry about. Enjoy being young while you can."

James's brow furrowed slightly. But he was interested. He was increasingly interested in legislation about part-humans--anything from werewolves to centaurs--especially now that he and his friends were looking into careers and thinking heavily on their futures. He was also intensely interested in the recent debates about pureblood vs muggle-born. He didn't think about his future much (besides marrying Lily Evans and becoming a famous Quidditch player) but with a war happening, he wanted to be in the know. He was only fifteen, but "only" didn't mean anything to a Marauder.

"Really, James," his mother insisted when she saw his look, "you wouldn't want to leave Sirius alone. And I'm sure he doesn't want to come with."

Sirius made a particularly disgusted face and slunk over the couch until he rested on the floor. "No thanks. I imagine my mum will be there, spouting all sorts of the usual nonsense. Set her straight for me, would you?"

"I'll do what I can, but I'm afraid she's not known to see reason."

"You're telling me." Sirius sat up and elbowed James. "C'mon, we'll practice Quidditch. You practice your shots and I'll practice hitting you in the head."

James grinned. If anything could pull him away, it was Quidditch. "Right. See you at supper, then?"

"Of course," his mother answered. "Try not to break the stables this time, alright?"

"Will do," Sirius saluted as she Apparated out of the parlor. Then he sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Does she always dress like that when she goes to a party? Right intimidating, she is. I'd vote her for Minister of Magic even if she wasn't running."

James laughed, but it was brief. "She only dresses that way when she's off to war."

\----

The garden party Mrs. Potter was attending was an annual summer event, which James' might have actually remembered if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his paper. He'd been to a handful of them throughout his boyhood.

Each year, the MacDougals hosted a summer garden party that was, traditionally, reserved for pureblooded families. The last few had been rather tense, and now, five years into a Wizarding War, Mrs. Potter was determined to keep her son away from this event. Her husband had tried to dissuade her from going, but she told him the MacDougals were not aligned with this new anti-muggle campaign.

"Not openly," her husband had said with a frown.

"And if we don't make an appearance, what will happen then?" She had folded her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to answer. But he had none. Because not attending would very likely make them a target for the gang of Death Eaters. Which, she personally would care less about, but they had two sons to think about now, and she wasn't going to put either of them in that sort of danger.

At least, by showing her face and shaking a few hands, she could keep her family hanging in the middle of the tension of the war, which was, essentially, everyone's goal.

The MacDougals lived on the Irish Highlands, and apart from being a pureblood affair, their garden parties were known for dark teas and fresh fruit tarts.

When Mrs. Potter arrived, there were a handful of families already clustered around the garden tables. The Abbot family was seated near the fountain. Their eleven-year old son was leaning over the edge, seeing how close to the water he could get before his mother noticed. His parents, however, had hard eyes set on the other side of the garden, near the arbor, crawling with freshly blossoming grape vines. But the fresh summer beauty was marred by two families, seated very close together, in their darkly colored dress robes--the Burkes and the Malfoys.

Herbert and Belvina Burke were arguing in hushed whispers, while the recently married Lucius and Narcissa sat arm-in-arm with stony expressions on their face, directed at nothing in particular. They looked absolutely nothing like the picture of a happy newlywed couple.

And near the center of the party, the MacDougals were entertaining the Crouch family. Loud laughter from Mrs. MacDougal at her husband's joke--which, in Mrs. Potters experience were funny only to his wife--was returned with awkward smiles from Barty Crouch and his wife.

Mrs. Potter nodded politely at the two corners of the party before making her way to greet the host and hostess.

They were both pleased to see her--Mrs. MacDougal gave her a kiss on the cheek--and immediately the Crouches slunk away to their own table.

Within the hour, most of the party guests had arrived. Cygnus and Druella Black arrived and immediately began fondling their daughter. Representing the Crabbe family was Araminta Meliflua, and both Lucretia and Ignatius came to represent the Prewett family. They all sat clumped around the Burkes and the Malfoys.

Elphinstone Urquart arrived, and it was no secret who he was scanning the crowd for before settling in near the Abbot's table when he did not find her. The Browns came next, and by that time there was at least a general buzz of conversation filling the air while food and drink were passed around.

However, the party was still clearly divided into two camps. The Blacks, Crabbes, the Burkes, the Malfoys, and the Prewetts sat on one side. The Browns, the Abbots, and Mr. Urquart sat at the other. Mrs. Potter knew where her loyalties lied as well, but she took the neutral seat in the center with the Crouches, and engaged Barty in polite questioning about his work at the Ministry. He was tight-lipped, understandably, but Mrs. Crouch was very free in talking about the strain his work was putting on their family.

"I hardly see my husband or my son anymore," she sighed and Mrs. Potter gave her a sad smile.

"I worry James will be the same way when he turns seventeen. Probably zipping around England on his broom without a care for the act of secrecy. Oh, we're already saving up to pay for expenses he'll incur," she tried to joke, but the Crouches were not much for jokes. Mrs. Crouch gave her the same awkward smile they had given the MacDougals.

The MacMillians arrived, as loud and boisterous as the MacDougals. They had a son about Joseph Abbot's age, who quickly ran to the fountain to splash the other boy. Mrs. Potter watched with a faint smile, remembering how mischievous James had been just before he began school. And judging by the letters she received from Hogwarts, that hadn't changed much.

Augusta Longbottom arrived next, mentioned that her son and daughter-in-law were on Ministry business and would be late, but did send their regards.

An hour late, the Weasleys arrived--Arthur and Molly, with two boys in tow. Mrs. Potter politely excused herself from the table and went to greet them. Molly Weasley was just finishing her apology to the MacDougals for their late arrival.

"There was paint everywhere," she said breathlessly. "Barely got him cleaned up before the other was eating the nails. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a daughter."

"They'll grow up," Mrs. Potter encouraged with a gentle pat.

"Now that Charlie's out of his terrible twos, maybe we could try for another," Arthur suggested to Molly with a gentle smile.

Molly sighed. "I suppose one more would't--" but she wasn't able to finish because she had to run over to the fountain and grab Bill before he could push Charlie in.

Mrs. Potter laughed lightly, secretly quite glad she had only ever had James. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like putting up with two of him. That was like what she had now, but at least they were both at ages they could be reasoned with. Having a baby Sirius and a baby James together just might have killed her.

She noticed the disdainful look Ignatius and Lucretia Prewett were giving Arthur Weasley, and pointedly took a seat next to him, beside the Abbots. She exchanged polite greetings with the Abbots, and the usual conversation about their lives recently. At this age, conversation was mostly about what their children were doing these days.

"We'll be getting in James's OWL results soon," she said eagerly.

"Minnie says he's quite talented in Transfiguration," Urquart chimed in. "She says he and Sirius Black are at the top of her class." He looked like he wanted to push at another issue. She could tell by the way he said Sirius's name that rumors must've begun to spread, but she was momentarily spared an inquisition by Mrs. Abbot's eager desire to talk about her own children.

"Joseph will be starting at Hogwarts in the fall," Mrs. Abbot said with a fond smile. "He's so excited. His sister just finished her second year and can't stop talking about it, still."

"Rachel is in Ravenclaw, isn't she?" Mrs. Potter asked politely.

"Oh yes, she's quite proud. And we are too, of course, though he was a Slytherin, and I was a Hufflepuff," she laughed and lightly elbowed her husband.

"Still a bit of a rivalry between us, I'm afraid," Mr. Abbot smiled. "The Bludger she landed on my face in the Quidditch cup wasn't too good for our relationship."

"Still bitter about that, of all the fights we've had since then?" she laughed, and Mrs. Potter laughed with them--to be polite, but also in genuine mirth.

Despite the tension of the war hanging over them, there were still places to be joyful. They were all still friends and family before they were soldiers, something she wasn't sure the other side of the room understood. Their expressions gave the phrase "stiff upper lip" a whole new meaning.

Augusta began talking about her son and his fiancee's wedding plans. Mrs. Potter loved nothing more than a wedding, but she was distracted by the party's newest arrival--Barty Crouch's son. He walked into the garden looking not necessarily disheveled, but hastily put together. He had a sullen look on his face as he took a seat beside his isolated parents. His mother quickly began to fix his hair and ignored the dark look he was giving her. Barty Crouch looked like he was scolding his son--whether for being late or for his appearance, Mrs. Potter couldn't say.

Shortly behind him arrived Orion and Walburga Black, their niece Bellatrix, and her husband Rodolphus Lestrange. Mrs. Potter thought, with the faintest of frowns, that she had not seen any of the Lestrange family at the party yet. And, oddly enough, neither the Goyles nor the Travers were present. She lightly drummed her fingers on top of the table and was only drawn away from an unintentional staring contest with Walburga Black when Mrs. Abbot gently nudged her arm.

"I'm sorry?"

"Have you spoken with Walburga this summer?" Mrs. Abbot repeated.

She gave the party around her a tight smile, as she realized all attention was now on her. Apparently rumors were unavoidable.

"I received a vicious howler shortly after summer started. It wasn't very tasteful, but neither is her choice in jewelry, so I can't say I was especially surprised."

"Oh, so it is true!" she squealed, almost excited by the gossip. Mrs. Potter didn't blame her. A little gossip among purebloods was a welcome relief over conversation about recent muggle killings and the deaths of loved ones in the midst of a war.

"What's true?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"You spirited away the Black boy at the end of the school term."

"Is that what people are saying? It's far more exciting than what really happened, so I suppose I shouldn't dare correct it."

Augusta hardly looked impressed, hands tightly folded over her lap and her lip pressed into a stern line. "Blood ought to raise blood. Not that I agree with that sort," and her lip curled--graceful yet distasteful--in the direction of the other half of the party, "but it hardly seems right to take a woman's child from her."

Mrs. Potter wasn't just offended, she was nearly livid at the accusation. "I did not spirit him away, as Leah eloquently put it," a little sharper than she meant, "and I did not take her child." Perhaps she was a little louder than she needed to be, but she didn't stop. "Sirius Black arrived on my fireplace hearth, looking like he'd received more than a bludger in the face, and like he hadn't had a bite of food since the end of the school term. And, if we're airing all our dirty laundry out," this time she intentionally raised her voice so the other side of the party--already listening intently--could hear her loud and clear, "the howler I received had such intonations that made me believe Sirius Black was no longer welcome at the Black family home. So I opened my doors, as any reasonable human being should."

Elphinstone Urquart and Leah Abbot looked ready to applaud her. Molly and Arthur nodded firmly at her emphasis on 'human being.' Small words, but they carried a lot of weight in the midst of a war that emphasized a divide between wizards and muggles. Augusta did not seem shamed by the correction. Rather, her stern stare had turned on Walburga Black, as if offended by the idea of a woman disowning her son.

It was Bellatrix Lestrange's laugh that broke the heavy silence in the garden. "Oh, Auntie, what a riot. They think the little blood-traitor deserves to be treated like a real wizard, instead of the useless pup--"

But her loud rebuttal was cut off by a harsh whisper from her father.

Walburga Black got to her feet, walked immediately over to the MacDougals, who looked torn between bewilderment and indignation--as if they weren't quite sure what part of today to be indignant about. "I apologize for our late attendance," she began in a voice that was clearly showy, "but I am afraid we can't stay if our family name is to continue to be tarnished in this way."

Mrs. Potter leapt to her feet. "Oh, please, enlighten me. I would love to hear what motivation you had for treating your son that way."

"How I raise my children is my business and not yours," she snapped back quickly.

The air between the two women was so tense, you could almost hear it crackle, like the moment a wizard drew back their wand before casting a deadly spell.

"However," Mrs. Black quickly smoothed her dress robes out, "as it is, I have only one son, and I would appreciate if you ceased meddling in my family's affairs."

Mrs. Potter drew in a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly, drawing on all the patience she had learned raising James. It took every ounce to reign her temper back in. "As it is, I have two wonderful sons, and I intend to raise them with all the love and kindness they deserve."

Walburga Black sniffed, like she was restraining a laugh. Bellatrix's laugh was entirely unrestrained, even when her mother tried to calm her down.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Mrs. Black turned the conversation back to the MacDougals, "but if this is the company you continue to keep, I'm afraid we won't be able to attend in the future." And with that, she linked arms with her husband, and the two vanished.

There was a cold silence in the garden. The MacDougals and the Macmillans looked utterly shocked by the rude exchange. Mrs. Potter was still seething, unable to sit down, until Molly tugged on her hand and gently guided her down to her seat.

Conversation, however, did not resume until Frank Longbottom, Alice Brown, and Fabian and Gideon Prewett burst into the garden through the front gate, talking loudly amongst each other. Frank broke away from the hand of his fiancee and ran to his mother's side.

"Mum!" and he embraced her fully. Judging by the expression on her face, this was not a common exchange between them. She seemed unaccustomed to the spontaneous hug and awkwardly patted his shoulder until he broke the embrace and took a seat beside her. His hand immediately re-entertwined with Alice's.

Fabian and Gideon squeezed on either side of Arthur and Molly as Alastor Moody limped his way in behind them.

"Not too late are we?" Fabian asked as he checked his watch. He frowned and poked at a dent in the cover. "Well that's new."

All awkward silence that might have followed the abrupt entrance was smoothed over by the excited squeals of Bill and Charlie Weasley who ran over to their uncles and demanded to be picked up.

The MacDougals greeted the new arrivals with wary smiles and a polite nod to Alastor Moody. "We don't normally see you at these events," Mr. MacDougal smiled and extended his hand. But Moody eyed it warily and ended up not taking it.

"Can you blame me?" was his only answer before walking towards Mr. Crouch where the two took a short, isolated walk into the orchard adjacent to the garden.

Fabian and Gideon got back up and Charlie and Bill followed them, eager to play. Molly watched warily while her brothers tossed her sons in the air and caught them neatly.

"Be careful," she pleaded, and Arthur put a comforting hand on her shoulder. The Abbot boy and the Macmillan boy were quick to beg for a turn in the toss.

"Nasty bit of work," Alice was saying quietly to Leah. "Thirteen muggles in one go."

"Not here," Augusta interrupted sternly. Alice gave her mother-in-law-to-be a sharp look of protest, but kept her mouth shut. Her eyes trailed over to the other side of the party.

"The Orion Black is missing, is he?"

"He left shortly before you arrived," Augusta snapped. "It's not polite to go pointing fingers at someone else's party."

Alice's lip curled back and she irritably plopped her chin into her hand. "I'd rather they all weren't here. Don't trust the lot of the purists."

Frank gently squeezed her hand and she smiled back, but rage still flashed in her eyes.

Urquart tactfully turned the conversation to more mundane Ministry affairs and Frank and Alice gave him polite but subdued answers.

Mrs. Potter found herself feeling rather exhausted from all the tension, and with the weight of new muggle killings hanging over the conversation, she knew she would no longer be able to enjoy herself, nor be good company for the other guests and her hosts. So she politely said her goodbyes and thanked her hosts for their hospitality. She apologized for the scene, and Mrs. Macmillan loudly interrupted with, "Your boys are welcome to dinner any time they like."

Mrs. Potter smiled gratefully for the invitation. She then said her goodbyes to Mrs. Crouch and made a polite farewell to the others who mostly chose to ignore her. She didn't especially blame them, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't offended.

She was home shortly and sank down on the same couch her son had been lounging on earlier. She didn't move until sundown when James and Sirius came bursting in, loud, smelly, sweaty, and covered in mud and dirt. She was on her feet quickly, ushering them upstairs to bathe before they made a mess for the house elfs to clean up.

She then went to check on dinner preparations, ensured there would be plenty of food for two growing boys--one with an appetite larger than any of her horses--and fixed herself a stiff drink. She made a second for her husband, when he came through the door, just as the boys were coming back downstairs.

"Can I have one mum?" James asked with a grin. She swatted his shoulder lightly and told him to go sit down.

"Did you manage to set my mum straight?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow and followed her into the kitchen.

She gave him a faint smile. "As best as I could. At the least, she and I agree on where you belong." And she wrapped an arm around his shoulder, squeezed tightly, and kissed the top of his forehead. It was the most relaxed she'd felt in his shoulders since he'd set foot in her house and she counted it as her greatest victory to date.


End file.
